


Home is My Castle

by dragonofdispair, Rizobact



Series: Smoke and Mirrors [8]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, TF Flash Challenge 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizobact/pseuds/Rizobact
Summary: Prowl is the only home Jazz has.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Transformers Flash Fic Challenge prompt "Home is my castle". The featured character is Jazz. 500 words.

Jazz looked from the form of his not-quite-sleeping bondmate to the large sheet of silvered glass that hung in his quarters, overlooking the berth. As always, he shivered, seeing Prowl's reflection without that of his own. Even though he knew the Prowl he tentatively reached out and touched  _ was _ the reflection, and the one across the room in the mirror the real, physical  _ Prowl, _ the world on this side of the mirror always  _ seemed _ the more solid to Jazz.

Jazz existed only as one reflection among many. The lack of reflection in Prowl's mirror was because Jazz was a reflection without a body. 

The reality of it twisted Jazz in knots of hopelessly tangled wires. Sometimes he wondered if it was those mental contortions that made him forget to look at the mirror. Or to look at the mirror and not see his own absence. Or ignore it. Or whatever happened during those times when Jazz couldn't remember his own death.

Prowl's illusory EM field expanded in automatic  _ love-welcome _ as Jazz laid down beside the reflection of his lover and bondmate. Carefully, like he had a thousand times before, Jazz massaged the tension from his lover as Prowl drifted from not-sleeping and into pure dreams. Then he gently tucked the doorwings beneath the blanket on the berth. In the mirror, the blanket moved entirely on its own initiative, floating up to hang from where Jazz knew he held it, then snapping out to flutter gracefully over his lover. 

Jazz didn't bother tucking in himself. He touched Prowl again, smoothing his hands over the reflection of his lover, making sure one last time that he was safe and warm and nothing would touch or hurt him in the night. Then he transitioned from the illusory space next to Prowl to the mind within his reflected plating. 

The dream was much like the room outside them. Prowl didn't often dream of the past, and even less often dreamed of imaginary places. Most often his dream was just like this: his room in the Autobots' base, but without the large mirror he had carried from one set of quarters to the next since he'd joined the Prime's forces. Instead that wall had a shelf full of bookfiles and music disks and all the brick-brack Jazz very much knew he'd collect if given half a chance. The shelves were full of a shared life, a shared set of quarters.

Curled up together on the berth, Prowl clung tighter to Jazz. He wrapped his doorwings around them both and held Jazz like he would never, ever let him go.

What could he say? What  _ should _ he say? Jazz never knew. 

_ Keep living. _

_ We can't keep doing this. _

_ You need to move on. _

_ We need to move on. _

Tonight Jazz settled for "Good morning, lover."

"Can't be morning," Prowl muttered, gathering Jazz up even tighter into his arms.

"Why's that?" Jazz asked, for the clock on the wall said quite clearly it was.

"I'm holding you."


End file.
